In This Moment
by Lozzinator
Summary: WK fic. Oneshot. Can dreams ever become reality?


In This Moment

You don't own me... You never will.  
But... What if i want to be owned? Having someone to hold me. To caress my hair. To whisper in my ear that everything, no matter what, will be all right. I know that i will never have that sweet embrace. That muscular body to wrap itself around me. That warm breath tickling my face. But I don't feel sad. As much as i long for you, I'm glad that you have someone else. Glad that you can caress their hair. Glad that you can whisper sweet nothings into their ear.

Ten o'clock. Lunch time! I reach into my black leather bag and pull out a martini. Years of practice has allowed me to be able to keep a martini standing upright in a bag without it spilling. Smirking to myself, i take a sip. As the cool liquid runs down my throat, the burning sensation of vodka attacks the roof of my mouth. That's the thrill i long for every single day. It's the only thrill i get lately. Stan's in prison and i spend most of my time at work. Suddenly, I hear the elevator spring into life. I jump, damn nerves. It's probably Grace coming back from Dunkin' Donuts with a whole box of 24 chocolate donuts for her to eat while she sketches and flicks through carpet samples. I sigh, reach for my Vogue and open the front page covered with a picture of Angelina Jolie.

"Karen." I look up. It's you. Your voice fills my heart with joy and my stomach immediately turns into butterflies. My face feels suddenly hotter than usual.  
"Yeah, honey?" I say as nonchalantly as i can and put my head down, pretending to read the magazine. I cannot bare to look into your eyes. Those same brown eyes I've been looking into for years. And only now i can't tear my eyes away from this article on staying slim.  
"Didn't you call me? What do you want?" Will asked, i could tell his voice containing a small amount of annoyance. Shit, i didn't call him. My cell must have dialled his number by mistake.. I do have it on speed dial, after all. I rip my eyes away from the magazine to look into the familiar brown eyes I've come to adore. I adore everything about him. His eyes, his smile, his hair, his hands. Everything. I shake my thoughts and apologise, i reach into my bag once again and pull out my cell phone. Yep, something must have hit the keypad and dialled Will's number. I throw it back into my bag. Technology. Who needs it? And Will, of all people to call. I sigh again,  
"I'm sorry, Wilma. My cell dialled your number by mistake." I say in my most careless voice i could muster. I glance back at the magazine before looking back at Will to find that he had stepped towards the elevator. I leap up, "Wilma! Don't go!" the words escape my dry mouth before i could stop them. He stops and turns, face unfathomable.  
"What is it, Karen?" Will's voice seemed harder than before. I better let him go. I turn away from him, leaning on Grace's huge table smothered with designer things.  
"Nothing, it's all right." I take my right hand and rub my left arm gently, it hurts so much to let him go. Every moment with him is torture, yet it's torture to be without him.

A hand grabs my hand. I feel the warm breath on my neck I long for. "WIll?" I whisper.

"It's me. Don't talk." He wraps his other hand around my waist. His other hand still holding my right slides up to my neck and up to my face, he gently strokes my cheek. My head leans back onto his shoulder, eyes closed. I succumb to the affection. He runs his fingers through my hair, the repetitive pattern coinciding with the pattern of our breathing. The very essence of our existence. All in one touch.

I turn to face him, my love for him ever burning strongly in my stomach. My heart is beating faster and faster, my head is beginning to spin. For so long i have longed for this moment, my mind clouds over. I curl my hands around his neck, my feet curling onto my toes in an attempt to reach his height. I look into the brown pools that are his eyes and grin, this is where i want to stay. Forever in this moment. I close my eyes, and i feel his breath tickle my lips. His lips gently brush mine. Bliss.

I wake up. My face stuck to the Vogue magazine, still unopened. I sit up and painfully unglued my cheek to the magazine. It was a dream. I must have passed out from that martini. I did have a heavy night. My stomach sinks, it's dark outside. He wasn't really here.

I'm a fool. How could i think such things? I sigh and stand up from my desk. Grabbing my coat and purse, i take a look around the room before stepping towards and opening the door labelled 'Grace Adler Designs'. A tear slowly rolls down my cheek as i switch the lights off and close the door.


End file.
